Writer: David Bellamy
(A)He turned thirty-five last Sunday, (D)in his hair he found some(A)grey.
But he still ain't changed his lifestyle, he likes it better the (E)old way.
So he (D)grows a little garden in the (A)backyard by the fence
He's con(D)sumin' what he's growin' now-a-(A)days in self-(E)defense
He get's (A)out there in the twilight zone some(D)times, when it just don't make
Yeah, he gets off on country music, 'cause disco left him cold
He's got young friends into new wave, but he's just too friggin' old
And he dreams at night of Woodstock and the day John Lennon died
And the music made him happy and the silence made him cry
Yeah, he thinks of John sometimes, and he has to wonder why.l
'Cause he's an (D)OLD HIPPY, and he (A)don't know what to do
Should he (D)hang onto the old, or should he (A)grab onto the (E)new
He's and (D)OLD HIPPY, this new (A)life is just a bust
He ain't tryin' to change nobody, he's just (E)tryin' real hard to ad(A)just.
He was sure back in the Sixties, that everyone was hip
Then they sent him off to Viet Nam, on his senior trip
And they forced him to become a man, while he was still a boy
And behind each wave of tragedy, he waited for the joy.
Now this world might change around him, but he just can't change no more.
Well, he stays away alot now from the parties and the drugs
And he's thinkin' while he's joggin' 'round, sure is glad he quit the hard stuff
'Cause him and his kind get more endangered everyday
And pretty soon the species will just up and fade away
Like the smoke from that torpedo, just up and fade away
(CHORUS - Repeat last phrase and end)
(Jim Cloutier) email@example.com